Diana, the Huntress, walks in the ancient forest, stalking
And where she walks is silence
Poised and stealthy, silent as the ancient forest, itself
Disturbing not the dried leaves or breaking even a single twig
Ever vigilant, aware
Senses heightened
The silence of Her stealth
And the silence of the ancient forest are as one and the same
In the time of Her stalking
For Diana, the Huntress is hunting
And there is no prey
For Diana is a Goddess
Everywhere She hardly touches
The air barely feels Her breathing
As she moves through ancient ferns
Beneath ancient trees, along paths long forgotten
The mightiest of the forest revere Her and are humble
As She reaches for Her arrow and pulls it from Her quiver
In one graceful movement She fits the arrow to the bow
She draws back on the arrow
Bowstring taut as tawny muscle and sinew
She pauses, intent
The universe stands still and breathless
Even as She checks Her breathing to be sure Her aim will not
go astray
As it cannot for She is a Goddess
She looks straight down the shaft
Gently the bowstring slips from Her fingers
Skillfully as She has done since before the beginning of time
She lets the arrow fly
This arrow will never falter or go astray
Will never lose speed or fall to the earth
But this arrow will never find its mark
It is its destiny to keep circling the world
Forever restlessly searching, searching forever

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